


Forget Me Not

by wellthatjusthappend



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Bruce keeps making the same freaking mistakes, Depression, Isolation, M/M, Neglect, Rescue, Slow recovery, Starvation, character erasure, characters that hate each other, debating if this should be a villian origin story, it really could be, probably going to pay for it again, set post Tim's 'death', some references to events in arkham verse, was going to make this romancy or at least hate fucking but I wasn't feeling it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-11-29 06:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11435514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellthatjusthappend/pseuds/wellthatjusthappend
Summary: “It’s always nice to know how disposable we are to them, isn’t Replacement?”“Jason?” Tim’s head snapped up, tension coiling all through him.“Don’t worry though, we’re gonna prove them all wrong again.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up I am going to be mixing multiverse’s like crazy in this one. I’m leveraging things from the Arkham Knight universe but also from Rebirth where Tim is “killed”. The timeline is kinda fucked, but what else is new? Very little is known about Tim’s situation so I’m takin a lot of license.

The first few weeks of Tim’s imprisonment were filled with anxious anticipation.

He spun theories about why he was being held there. There seemed to be a larger plot going on. Something sinister, something to wreck the Batman using him. Tim was determined to stop them, or at least cause so much trouble they’d regret ever capturing him.

That proved very difficult to do from a dark cell.

His weapons had all been taken away but he was still in his Red Robin costume and Robin always had something up his sleeve. He fashioned a makeshift tool from his empty belt thinking that maybe if he could engineer the right kind of sustained tension on the glass and then suddenly release it the shock might be enough to shatter the surface. It probably wouldn’t have worked anyway, but he never got to find out because within hours of starting the project he was sedated and this time all of his costume was removed and he was left in only his thin underclothes.

“We will put you back in it when the time comes.” his hooded captor told him.

Tim filed that away. Spent the next several days constructing theories about what that could mean for his purpose here. The lack of clothes made him feel vulnerable and unrobinly. More like a unremarkable nobody. Tim shook that off and meditated for a while until he could shake off the feelings and not care too much about it. Still, it was a little cold. He scratched formulas for different escape methods he would make if he had the supplies into the metal of his cell with his fingernails.

Bruce was the greatest detective in the world. Surely soon he would find him and take him home. Would make the people who’d done this to him regret it. Sure he thought right now tim was dead, but that kind of falsehood couldn’t last forever. Tim wasn’t being harmed, he was just bored. All he had to do was be patient.

Even with Jason, the truth eventually came out. But Tim’s situation was different so it was unlikely to come to such extremes.

There was no way to tell the passage of time in the cell. It was dark save for a steady dim blue glow. He was fed, but he knew it was the bare minimum of what humans could survive on and it didn’t happen particularly regularly. His ribs started to show after a while but there was nothing Tim could do about it except eat the little food he was given.

There were two other cells in the room that were identical to the one Tim was in. They were each blank little rooms with nothing on the walls and no furniture that Tim might be able to leverage. There wasn’t even a toilet. That had actually caused a surprising amount of stress where Tim tried to hold it as long as he could, convinced he’d be given something or at least taken out to somewhere. He’d tried to ask, but either no one was surveilling him or they didn’t care.

Tim was more inclined to believe the latter.

At last he was forced to just use the corner of the cell and pray the waste wouldn’t breed sickness. He didn’t think his immune system already wasn’t worth much because of his missing spleen but with how little he was being fed… it was a real danger.

This lasted until the festering stink started to get to worrying levels. Then his food was drugged one day and when Tim woke up he was in the cell next to his damp from being hosed down. His previous cell was being cleaned thoroughly by robots and Tim watched with interest. If he could just get his hands on one he would probably be able to rewire it into something that could help him escape.

He was never in the same room as them though even when he was given food.

His hooded capture came to visit him occasionally and take pictures and measurements but even those visits were becoming less and less frequent. Tim tried to wheedle while the man was there, to get _any_ information, but his captor seemed to take delight in keeping him in the dark. Apparently figuratively as well as literally.

It was a good thing, Tim mused, that it was him in this situation and not someone like Dick. He was pretty sure the sheer isolation would have already gotten to the older vigilante. Tim was actually having a bit of a hard time with it as well, but at least he had more practice with such things than Dick did.

Being left alone in a great big house over and over again while his parents went traveling all over the world had made him resistant these sorts of things. But at least then there had been books and games and the internet and chasing after Batman and Robin at night time. Here there was nothing. Tim wondered if this was his captors plan: a psychological torture by deprivation of simple kinds of needs and stimulations. But unfortunately that didn’t even seem to be the case. Tim being here didn’t actually seemed to have much to do with Tim at all but virtually everyone else besides him.

He’s had 312 meals in captivity when he starts thinking more and more about what might happen if he just… died here. Nothing, he realizes. Everyone else already thinks he’s dead. They’ve probably come up with ways to compensate for his absence already. Tim wonders if they had a funeral. What story Bruce gave to his father and stepmother. If he even cared or just went right back to business as usual.

Hopefully Bruce is doing alright. Tim knows he doesn’t handle grief well. The man had made a lifetime devotion after his parents death. Tim became Robin because of his inconsolable grief and anguish after Jason’s death. Damian’s death wrecked him and made him irrational and his own brand of pain filled madness till he’d resurrected him. It’s… tim doesn’t know what he expects or hopes for in response to his own death.

Tim mostly sits on the floor of his cell now. He’d rather pace, but standing makes him dizzy with hunger these days and he doesn’t want to fall. He tried to talk to the camera at least as an exercise to keep him more mentally stable, but talking too much makes him extremely thirsty and he’s only a certain ration of water. Tim knows he’s fainted a few times but everything looks exactly the same when he wakes up again that he has no idea how long he’s unconscious for.

Why hadn’t anyone come for him? If they’d even looked at his death even a little bit there would have been signs and inconsistencies that would have pointed to him possibly being still alive. If it had been anyone on Tim’s team he wouldn’t have let it alone until there was absolutely no loose ends or factor left unexplained. That’s how he had found Bruce when everyone thought the man was dead.

Even as his rational mind kept reeling trying to figure out why why why… the rest of him was unsurprised. There’d always been that little voice that said that no one really cared about Tim. That he was an inconvenience that people would rather just not think about. He’d been learning to keep that voice at bay, with the love of his new family and the Titans. But here in the dark… there was nothing else.

_There was nothing else._

The Hooded man stopped coming. Stopped coming for so long. There was no one but the robots. He wondered if even his captors had forgotten him. He wouldn’t be surprised. Sure enough the robots shut down as well after another 50 meals or so and the lights finally flicker completely out.

Tim wonders if he’s already dead. Would he know? But he’s still in pain, so maybe not. He’s so thirsty. If he’s not dead yet, he won’t last more than a day or two more at most. The thought is a bit comforting: at least it’ll all be over then. It will be-

_“What the fuck, it smells like sh- I’m gonna kill that fucker, there’s someone down here. Shit he’s still alive- Hey kid, can you hear me?”_

There is only darkness.

* * *

 

Tim wakes up to pain- well, everywhere.

He doesn’t consciously decide to open his eyes but he knows when he does because there a _sharper_ pain all of a sudden and he’s flinching and squeezing his eyes shut but even then it’s too much-

“Ah, I should have known the lights would be too much for you given where they were keeping you Replacement.” and it becomes easier to breathe as the lights are turned off even if a part of them wants to beg because he doesn’t want to be in the dark anymore, he doesn’t-

Replacement. Only one person calls him that.

Tim cautiously opens his eyes again and this time everything is in shadows. Specifically, one man shaped shadow next to him. Tim himself seems to be hooked up to a number of machines monitoring his vitals and giving him a steady drip of fluids. He might think that this was an elaborate hallucination brought on by his deteriorating psyche but… never once did he ever consider the person to rescue him would be-

“Jason.” Tim croaks and winces both from how raw his voice is from disuse and from the harsh sound of it.

“I honestly don’t know if you’re incredibly lucky or unlucky,” Jason muses, “The fucker who was keeping you locked up? We caught him a couple of months ago. You really ought to be dead for real. You would be except that I was going through all of his old hideouts making sure he didn’t have anything dangerous or problematic hidden away. I don’t care much for the surprises this guys has managed to pull out so far.”

“What-” Tim tried to ask, swallowed and swallowed and tried to work up enough spit- talking shouldn’t be this painful but every sound felt like literal shards of glass we being dragged against his the inside of his throat.

“Didn’t even recognize you till I had you all hooked up and was cleaning you up. Don’t know what I would have done if I had- called Golden Boy? I don’t know. You don’t exactly look like Tim Drake. But somethings…”

Jason’s fingers traced lightly over the scar that _he_ put there. Tim flinched and tried not to whimper. It had been so long since he’d been touched by another human it almost hurt. It felt a bit like being electrocuted.

“Somethings can’t be faked all that easily. And some other things are so fucked up that you kinda just know they must be true.” Jason finished.

“How- lon-?” Tim croaked, not sure how he felt about- anything.

“You’ve been with me a week. You’ve been going in and out of consciousness and I actually wasn’t sure you’d even make it.” Jason commented, “How long were you down there? I’m not sure, but you’ve been gone for almost two years now.”

No. _No._

“You should probably sleep some more. You need it and the horrors of life will still be right there waiting for you. Trust me, I have experience with this sort of shit.” Jason said.

“Don’ want…” Tim frowned, tried to explain that he didn’t want the darkness that he could already feel creeping into his senses.

Could he ever be free of it?

“I know Replacement, I know.”

* * *

 

When Tim next woke up he was more clear headed then he’d been in- frick, apparently almost two years. Tim couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t- nobody really would have come for him. Bruce- he couldn’t think about it.

He wasn’t sure what to make of Jason continuing to take care of him either.

“I don’t like you.” Jason had told him pretty early on, “You’re still the fucking creepy stalker and the pretender that stole my name _twice_. But I know most of that was on fucking B. I know that, but it still doesn’t mean I’m gonna like you. I’ll take care of you because I’m not a monster, but it won’t change anything.”

Which had made Tim cringe with old guilt. Even though he’d still do it all again in a heartbeat. Still though, he guessed they were even there: he hadn’t exactly forgiven Jason completely for what he’d done to Gotham or Bruce as the Arkham Knight, even if he had made some progress in his transition to Red Hood.

He would probably die without the uneasy truce though.

Jason immediately put him on a strict diet. It felt both like it wasn’t enough and was far too much. Tim hadn’t been much of a big eater before, he’d always seen food as something that he did to live and not much more now- Well, he had a new intimate appreciation for it but he couldn’t say he looked forward to mealtimes since Jason insisted on feeding him until he felt bloated 4 or 5 times a day even though he knew that the amount he was eating was still relatively small.

“Have you told Bruce I’m alive?” asked Tim at last.

“Hell no. This place would be crawling in Bats if I had.You can tell them yourself if you want to.” Jason made a face in the dim light. Tim still couldn’t do full lights, but they’d worked their way up to little Christmas lights Jason had found and blacked out windows. Candles would have worked too, but Jason made a comment about not wanting to smell like a perfume store all the time.

Tim was feeling stronger everyday, even if he didn’t quite feel like himself yet.

It was quite a shock then when on a day he was feeling particularly better Tim had tried get out of bed and his legs had refused to hold him.

“I figured it’d be something like this.” Jason sighed when he’d found Tim on the floor after he’d come back from a bloody patrol.

“I don’t understand, I feel so much better-” Tim started.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the fucking smart one? Accepted to an Ivy college and all that?” Jason snorted.

“I- what? I got accepted?” Tim blinked. He still hadn’t heard back from them at the time. Two years later and possibly legally dead that wasn’t much of an option anymore. He shoved those thoughts away.

“Look, you were in that tiny cell for more than a year and it looked like you hadn’t really been moving around all that much. When that happens? All those nice pretty muscles you weren’t using started to deteriorate.” Jason tapped his legs.

“Right… Atrophy, I-” Tim tried to raise himself even slightly and shook like leaf. He wished Jason wasn’t there to see it.

“Look, there’s stretches and exercises you can do that will get you back onto your feet. I can’t say exactly what you should expect since I was held for a shorter amount of time but was tortured by the fucking Joker the whole way. Still, for me it took almost a year of physical therapy to be walking around without a cane after being tied to that fucking chair-” Jason cut himself off and muttered something under his breath before grabbing one of Tim’s legs and shoving up the loose sweatpants he was borrowing to massage the muscles there.

Tim bit back a sound of pain but Jason was unsympathetic, kept working the knots in his calves till at last the tension Tim hadn’t even realized was there suddenly gave. He held back a sound but Jason ignored him and continued up his leg then repeated the process on the other. The feel of being _touched_ , well, once Tim was slightly more used to it felt like a drug.

He he felt desperate to be touched all over and not particularly in a sexual ways just- for two years there’d been nothing. _Nothing_. And now-

“You’ll probably need to do that everyday even after we get you on your feet.” Jason said finally seeming satisfied with his work.

“Ok.” Tim answers not entirely sure how he felt about the whole ordeal. Frustrated, he decided, that his road to recovery would be even longer than he’d thought.

“I’m sure B will have even fancier toys meant to help get you back on the streets faster once you go running back to him.” Jason said his lip curling ever so slightly before fishing around in his pocket, “You’re strong enough for travel anyway so go ahead and call him up whenever.”

Tim stared at the burner phone Jason dropped into his lap.

All this time, all that silence and pain, and he could be back _home_. He might not be able to walk yet but like Jason said, Bruce would help him get stronger and there were plenty of things he could do to help with the Mission while he healed. Things could go back to how they were and this would just be another near death experience to add to the pile.

Tim frowned. There was a… resistance in him at that. An unpleasant taste in his mouth at the idea of calling his adoptive family. He ought to. And he ought to want to go back, and be happy about the prospect, or closing this chapter of his life… but the thing was Tim Drake Wayne still seemed like an odd dream he’d made up in that dark. Oh he remembered everything, had a clear concept of what kind of person he was and how he’d thought and felt about things. But everything felt detached.

He knew trauma wasn’t just some blanket that was shrugged off with a little effort. His life was filled with people who’d been transformed by trauma. For better or for worse. And some people like Jason who… Tim really wasn’t sure about.

Tim felt changed, but he wasn’t quite certain all the ways how. He was sure that he didn’t like the prospect of finding out about those changes at the Manor where if it turned out he had developed less than attractive emotional scars… maybe they wouldn’t really reject him if he didn’t fit the mold of the old Tim, but honestly he didn’t have a lot of faith in that which was a little worrisome.

He wouldn’t call them. Not yet at least. Not until he had a better sense of… everything.

“Can I get onto the web somewhere?” asked Tim at last. Jason glanced at him, though Tim doubted he’d ever taken his attention off of him. He quickly explained before Jason could say anything, “I’ve learned to never go into a conversation with Bruce blind because… well, you know how he is.”

“Everything important is in the context and not shit that he says?” Jason drawled slightly crossing his arms and looking generally unhelpful.

“I need to know what’s happened while I’ve been “dead” before he makes it so I can only see his version of… everything.” Tim said uncomfortably. Maybe it was a lifetime of practically worshipping Batman and Robin, but admitting more problematic things about Bruce had always been… hard. Especially when no one outside the family understood and everyone inside… well, they were in the same situation.

The look Jason game him for that was openly assessing. Then he simply nodded and went to grab Tim a laptop. Tim didn’t want to think about what it meant that this was the first time Jason hadn’t looked at him in some sort of disdain.

Tim lifted himself with shaking arms back onto the low bed. Even that small movement had him short of breath. Had him wanting to start the most punishing of physical training. Jason came back and dropped the computer next to him. For a moment, it looked like he might want to say something then his mouth hardened into a thinline and he simply took a seat on the other side of the room, absent of his usual barbed snark. Tim knew he was watching him very closely even so.

Ignoring his audience, Tim began to catch himself up to date on everything that had happened while he was gone.

The fiasco in Gotham had been resolved soon after he’d been taken out just like he’d known it would. There was no mention of anything happening to Red Robin though. Tim told himself that was better, that he was a symbol and symbols weren’t allowed to die. It was less easy to deal with the fact that Tim Drake Wayne had never had a funeral. That his father hadn’t even checked in the whole two years he was gone to realize something was wrong. Tim had always suspected that he was the only one maintaining their relationship- but no, Tim had chosen his _real_ family a long time ago.

A real family which… also was pretending he never existed or died.

It got worse when he stopped reading the newspaper articles and hacked into the Watchtower reports. He’d expected them to adapt to his absence eventually. But this didn’t feel like adapting this felt like…

 _Replacing,_ a voice inside him that sounded an awful lot like Jason said.

The most significant effect his death seemed to have was that Stephanie seemed to have broken away from Bruce after it in a fit of anger. She was now in a relationship with Cas though and seemed to be moving on quite completely. Tim swallowed and tried not to begrudge her that. She was the only one though. The only one who visibly reacted to his death. The others went on business as usual.

Damian was expected. He hated Tim and he benefited most from his death. He was now the heir to the Wayne fortune. The Drake one too. He had Robin. He’d even been given Tim’s Titian’s. He had Tim’s family. Everything that had once belonged to Tim seemed to have just been handed over to Bruce’s blood son.

Dick was a sharp betrayal as was Babs. They ushered Damian in as if Tim had never existed. Quickly becoming caught up in their own drama and forgetting all about him.

Bruce was perhaps the most painful though. His partner, his father, his friend. Tim’s memories of what Bruce was like in the aftermath of one of his Robins being killed were stark and frightening. This though, there was nothing. No rage, no extra aggression, no altered behaviors as far as Tim could see how ever so slightly. Just raising Damian and playing happy families with the new Superman and his son. _Did you even grieve for me at all?_

There was nothing nothing NOTHING and Tim could feel the chill and darkness and emptiness of his cell closing in around him.

“How could they do this?” Tim said after searching and searching for something.

Jason’s focused was laser sharp on him and tim wondered what sort of face he was making.

“They can’t just- It’s not even like I died it’s like they _erased_ me. Pretended I didn’t exist and gave everything to that murdering brat. And nobody came- I don’t understand why _nobody came_!” Tim choked. He told himself to calm down. This was premature. He needed to do more research. A few hours wasn’t enough to- He took several deep breaths. It didn’t do anything to calm the chaos inside of him. The creeping numbness around the edges.

Jason stared at him a long while after his outburst before huffing out a small laugh.

“You know, some part of me really thought the old man would have learned his lesson about declaring a Robin dead without a body. Guess not.” Jason said humorlessly.

“He likely thought the high temperature of the explosion destroyed my body.” Tim said stiffly, unable to help but try and defend his - _their-_ mentor.

“Oh yeah?” Jason raised an eyebrow, “You and I both have found enough patch job serial killers to know that bones don’t burn so much as become extremely breakable and easily crushed. And unless you were wearing some cheap knock-off of a costume, most of it should have been left since B always made that shit practically fucking lava proof because of all the metas and crazies with flamethrowers Gotham’s got under her skirts. Unless those baddies stripped you naked when they took you and left the costume?”

“...They only left my staff.” Tim admitted, and- this is what he’d been telling himself over and over in his cell. That they would come because there were so many clues, that- “I don’t understand. Bruce- all of the- they’re _detectives_ Jason. If anyone, _anyone_ , had looked even a little bit closer it would have been obvious that I hadn’t died there. Or at least that someone had taken my body. I don’t- It doesn’t-”

Tim gave a tiny growl of frustration and firmly didn’t look at Jason.

“Ah but kid, you’re forgetting one tiny detail.” Jason snorted bitterly, and Tim looked up because, well, “ _kid”_ not “replacement” or “pretender” or anything else deragaty, “You see, the thing about Bruce is he is fucking brilliant, _but_ he can’t fucking make himself see shit that doesn’t add to his Mission. I realized that when he left me to rot under Arkham. Sure, Joker had covered a lot of his tracks, but there were still so many obvious loose end and B just decided after a bit to stop looking. Because you see, alive we’re actually a barrier to the Mission, something that would distract his attention from the real evils that needed to be fought. But dead…”

“We become symbols.” Tim closed his eyes around the pain, “Something to punish Bruce and drive the Mission even further.”

“And there are always more soldiers.” Jason said looking right at him and-

“That…” Tim shook his head slightly, but he couldn’t dislodge the idea. He’d always been a little sympathetic to Jason’s viewpoint, but he had also been so sure he was ultimately wrong in all his conclusions. Still wrong on some, Tim firmly reminded himself thinking of the havoc the other had wrecked on Gotham. He’d thought it a childish temper tantrum at the time. Now he could see a little bit more how it made sense. How Bruce had to be forced to _see_ how fucked up what he was doing was. But there had to be another way other than what Jason had tried.

“They’d been sidelining you for a while.” Jason noted, “They clearly wanted the demon brat to come into his his own and they knew he couldn’t do that fully with you around. Can’t live into his potential with you around. Even Goldie wanted it. They were all to polite to push through.”

Jason didn’t know, Tim realized, didn’t know why tim had become Red Robin. That he’d been forcefully pushed from his place as Robin, not because he was failing in anyway but because they decided they wanted Damian to have it. Tim had thought he’d gotten through his bitterness over that. He liked being Red Robin, albeit it was something _else_ he’d stolen from Jason, but apparently the older wound had just been sitting. Waiting to be infected by something like _this._

“It’s always nice to know how disposable we are to them, isn’t Replacement?” Jason said with a sharp grin that promised pain to _someone._

“Jason?” Tim tensed.

“Don’t worry though, we’re gonna prove them all wrong again.” Jason said with steal in his eye.

“...We?” Tim almost laughed even though this was far from funny.

“I’m going to. And you telling me you’re going to go crawling back under their shoes after all this?” Jason said his tone daring.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I can’t go back just yet, no.” Tim admitted.

“So you _do_ see.” Jason’s grin was triumphant and already calculating.

“This isn’t my villain origin story Jason.” Tim shot back glaring.

“Nah, who need that?” Jason said, “It is the beginning of something though, don’t you think?”

Tim covered his face with his hand and laughed humorlessly.

“Yeah,” He admitted, “Something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has mostly come over me stewing lately over the erasure/how the comics are handling Tim(or rather pretending he didn’t “die” or was only remarkable in the way that it lost them Spoiler) right now. At first I was going to do this all from Jason’s POV and have him freak out and it all be a his journey to try and find Tim and a lot of being upset with the Bat clan especially seeing the parallels with how he was shoved aside after his “death”. But then I thought of this darker AU and it seemed more interesting.
> 
> Come bother me on [Tumblr!](https://wellthatjusthappend.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Tim could feel it; the eyes of a new mask watching him. Waiting for him. Unnamable because of the way it would make it real. Would reform his identity. He wouldn’t be able to put it off for much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give. It’s continuing. I have no idea how long or if it’s for better or worse but you guys asked for this. So let’s bring the angst.

Tim fell down. Again. 

He wanted to be walking again already. Heck, he wants to be out on the street again. There’s an itch under his skin that he’s had since first saw Batman and Robin swing across the night as a child and it hasn’t faded a bit even now. As it is, his muscles were a wreck and even with the grueling physical therapy Jason has been putting him through, Tim is still as shaky as a newborn deer on legs. He was perfectly aware that healing didn’t happen all in a moment, but the idea of just sitting and doing  _ nothing _ made him feel sick.

Perhaps it was being locked in an isolated cell for 2 years, but times of boredom- those idle nothing moments of waiting between activities- felt a bit like death. 

He’d had his character growth, thank you very much. He’d like to get his life back now. Or at least have the ability to make a new one. As it was, he still felt so helpless almost all the time. He wasn’t a prisoner anymore, but he was hardly free to do what he wanted. 

“Sit your ass down junkie.” Jason said impatiently grabbing him by his sweatshirt and hoisting him up easily. Not like Tim weighed much at the moment but it was still aggravating. Tim instinctively kicked out when he was grabbed and he barely contained a yelp as the blow connected. 

Jason dumped him on the couch with an unimpressed look.

“Didn’t B ever teach you not to go for moves that would hurt you more than your opponent?” He scoffed. 

“Don’t pick me up.” Tim snapped back instead.

“Right,” Jason turned away from him, “I’ll just leave you to crawl around on the floor then next time, noted.”

“Fuck off.” Tim couldn’t help but shoot back. Normally he had a much better temperament but lately… No, he could keep his cool. Jason was the one person who was still around and helping him. Who hadn’t forgotten. He suspected it was in part because Tim’s life was a bit of a raging garbage fire right now and Jason was enjoying watching things burn. 

He was the person Bruce had replaced Jason with. With that he’d guaranteed that Jason would always have an eye on him, if only to watch him fail. 

Still, Tim couldn’t afford to lose him as an ally. Even if he strongly suspected that Jason liked him better when he got mad. His healing was a slow aggravating thing and he needed Jason till he could at least walk around on his own. However, Tim was considering staying even after he was physically independent. His face wasn’t that famous, but if he went out in public particularly in the area where Red Hood was thought to be lurking- he knew that Bruce kept tabs on such things- then he was eventually going to be found.

If Tim was found, it would be on his terms. That much he had already decided.

The worst were days when Tim’s energy failed him before it was time or he found some new skill that he was rusty at now and all he was able to soak in the helplessness of it all. Whenever that happened it was quickly followed by a cold numbness and apathy. Nothingness. Tim pushed back on it strongly whenever he recognized he was disassociating. He’d had 2 years of that he was  _ done. _

Being useless grated on his nerves and made it harder to keep the numbness at bay. He’d wanted to try and stand a little longer today even if it was just with the support of the couch, but it looked like that wasn’t happening. That didn’t mean he was resigned to his fate. Never that. Stretching out his foot, Tim caught the edge of the rolling computer chair he’d been using to get around the safehouse and dragged in closer to him so he could climb on and begin pushing himself to the kitchen. 

The chair had been a lifesaver. He probably should get a wheelchair, but his pride was a fickle thing. Somehow it felt better to push himself around on the rolling chair. The tile of the kitchen was cool and nice on his feet and Tim took a moment to jest appreciate the fact that he could have this now. Different textures, temperature, even his limited mobility. He was frustrated and bitter, but not wholly ungrateful for the things he  _ had _ managed to gain. 

Jason was busy making them a light meal before he left for patrol. Tim had tried to assist, but a few small fires later he had been banned from touching the stove, toaster, or the microwave. He thought about apologizing for earlier, but he knew Jason wouldn’t be interested in hearing it. The other man didn’t particularly care if Tim was happy or unhappy with his current state of being, just what he planned to do about it.

“ _ With words people lie and lie and lie, _ ” Jason had told him at one point, “ _ Watch what people  _ do. _ That’s where you should lay your money.” _

Like the way Bruce says he’s sorry about what happened to Jason but he didn’t alter his behavior at all and let it happen again.

The thought was unbidden and unwelcome. Thoughts like that happened more and more these days though,

“You better have eaten this by the time I get back because there’s going to be another meal for you then.” Jason said briskly dropping a plate of food on the table for him and continuing to walk around carrying his own plate as he got ready for the night. 

“I was thinking of manning the comms again tonight.” Tim said lightly. Conversationally.

“Don’t really give a fuck what you do, kid.” Jason said walking past again to pull something out of a cupboard, examine it, then put it right back and wander off again. 

“I can keep Bruce and Barbara off your feeds and locations. Or at least, feed them enough misinformation that what they do gather is useless.” Tim said picking at his food.

Jason grunted in acknowledgment. 

“I’ll also let you know if I find anything you should know about.” Tim added.

“Interfere too much and B is gonna realize pretty fast there’s someone doing computer shit for me and investigate.” Jason pointed out.

“I’ll be sure to drop morbid clues about the truth then.” Tim said dryly. That got a smile out of Jason. It felt a bit like a victory.

“Good way to wake up with him looming over your bed.” Jason snorted. 

“Something all of us who have been Robin are totally unfamiliar with, to be sure.” Tim said sarcastically. 

“You’re the one who willingly sought out this madness. Me? I got kidnapped by the Bat.” Jason said, though there was still a hint of dark amusement there. 

Tim only hummed in reply.

“Later then.” Jason finally grabbed he helmet and messed up Tim’s hair on the way out. Tim sighed and flattened it back down as best as he could. In two years his hair had made it just past his shoulders. The moment he’d been able to he’d taken a pair of scissors to it and hacked it off inelegantly. Jason had refused to help because he seemed to get amusement out of the impossible mess it was as a result. Tim considered just shaving it off but then he’d have to buy a hat to keep his head warm and Tim really hated being cold these days. 

Eating was… difficult. He didn’t really want to and his stomach often protested he did. Still, Tim knew that he wouldn’t be able to go back on the streets until he’d managed to put on some more weight and build up strength so he couldn’t really even dump the food in the trash now that he wasn’t being watched. Or he could, but it’d just be self sabotage in the long run. At least Jason turned out to be a decent cook.

Soon enough though he was grabbing his plate and rolling back to the computer where he’d try and continue to pick at his food through Jason’s patrol… and his own research. 

“What are you up to Bruce…?” Tim murmured to himself. By all accounts, Batman was in the middle of an investigation on Clayface. A nearly apocalyptic run in with magic users and demons that had been not so neatly tied up and shoved to the side anyway. Drama with allies once again. 

“Busy busy busy…” Tim muttered carefully cataloging each event, the time it had taken to respond, what Batman had done to neutralize the threat, how he had tied up the loose ends once the immediate danger was past -that part was almost always nothing or left up to the police.  _ Sloppy _ \- and what interpersonal relationship he was in the process of messing up or negotiating. 

Dick was a mess as usual. Falling in and out of beds he shouldn’t be in and getting hopelessly compromised and taken advantage of again and again. Quickly followed up by Bruce confronting him and Dick punishing himself even further, getting starved for affection and promptly falling into another lovers arms. An endless cycle on repeat. Barbara seemed to be doing slightly better. Her coping mechanism for dealing with Bruce seemed to be drawing further and further away as the years past. 

“Careful Bruce,” Tim said to himself as he added to his notes, “They’ll end up hating you on some level at this rate. More so if you make it so they can’t leave you.”

Duke was largely left to his own devices these days. With Batman occasionally, but mostly not. Which socially was probably alright.Tim supposed it would give him a better chance at not internalizing many of the issues inherent to working with Batman. But more importantly-

“He’s going to get killed one of these days if you don’t train him with the same intentionality you once gave us, Bruce.” Tim frowned and tapped at his lip with his pen.

Damian was also left unsupervised most of the time which was much more worrisome. He traveled across the country and sometimes the world and confronted supervillians on his own or with a few of his friends. Or with the Titans. He took charge with a vengeance in the groups he was in, but his methods were still that of a clumsy boy trying to figure out what he believed. 

“God, Bruce, if you’re never around to guide him what’s going to stop Damian from becoming a villain himself one day?” Tim said in frustration. Dick was a bigger mentor to him and he barely saw the kid. Of course, the kid was working with many of the structures Tim had painstakingly built himself so he did have it easier in that respect. Still the fact that he was even trying to replace Tim- no, that the others were practically encouraging him to do so-

Ignoring that, ignoring that, Tim told himself. Not relevant at the moment. Keep it as impersonal as possible. That’s how he was going to make the most effective plan. 

Stephanie was actually clashing with Bruce the most. Tim’s death was still a sore spot between them though it wasn’t acknowledged much. She had moved on, was dating Cass, but she was also continually pushing and pushing and  _ pushing _ the limits of what Batman would accept and tolerate. 

“You’re on your way to becoming an anti-hero Steph.” Tim laughed under his breath.

What a thought. 

Tim toyed with the idea of calling her again. Out of all of them, she had been one of the only ones to really acknowledge Tim’s death. She had’t searched for him, but then she was never supposed to be a detective either. It wasn’t her responsibility to notice and Tim didn’t expect her to.

Even after the fiasco with Jason, they still implicitly trusted Bruce’s word when he pronounced someone death without a body. Tim had been aware that there was a certain level of  patrimonialism within the Bats, but he hadn’t realized it had gotten this bad. The fact that while small forms of disagreement and fights were frequent, none of the major policies or rules set by Bruce were allowed to be even questioned much less acted upon. If they were, you became forever an outcast like Jason… Like Tim would be soon too. 

“A cult of personality,” Tim snorted bitterly. Or, not quite if you were going to get technical about it. But close enough to be deeply uncomfortable. 

“ _ Birdy, wanna let me know who the shit stains I’m looking at are? _ ” Jason’s voice came through the coms. 

“One moment.” Tim said pulling up the video feed from Jason’s helmet. He grimaced at the bloody swollen faces and began running them through the system, “You know this would be a lot easier if you didn’t take quite so many head shots.”

“ _ They deserved it _ .”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Tim mildly clicking a few more keys before- “Got them. Or at least a few. They seem to be some kind of muscle for hire… most already in trouble with the law for petty theft or violence- Ah, but they all live within 3 blocks of this bar that often serves as a pickup site for less reputable jobs.”

“ _ Hmm, maybe I’ll pay the bar a little visit and see if I can’t find out about their scumbag employer. _ ” Jason said, and Tim could hear the smile and promise of violence in his voice.

“Perhaps so.” Tim hummed and- he couldn’t say what was in his own voice. And what the fact that Tim was aware of what Jason would do to that questionable crew… what that had to do with the smile on his face. Tim carefully blanked his expression even though there was no one to see-

It would be outside of the protocol for the Bat. But not, Tim was realizing, outside his own lines. 

“Just make sure you leave someone to interrogate.” Tim said, “I’ll try to find out more as well.”

“ _ Feel free to ignore me if it gets too much for you. _ ” Jason said mockingly. Tim sighed. Jason didn’t kill for killing's sake. Tim wouldn’t be willingly working with him if he did. He didn’t even do it for the sake of a bigger plan either these days. Much of that had died with the Arkham Knight. He did punish crime rather than merely prevent it though. But Jason had always shown to be acutely aware of the way many of the criminals they encountered were also a product of still greater violence being enacted upon them. They were still punished for their actions, but not with the same severity Jason reserved for the true perpetrators. 

There would be nothing to turn away from tonight. No criminals at the bar that Jason was likely to encounter that would deserve a more severe punishment according to Jason’s personal code. It was both a relief and something that troubled Tim. Were these feelings of approval new? Some response to being a victim of intense trauma himself? But no, Tim comforted himself with the fact that he’d always been extremely introspective. His thoughts and feelings on  _ Jason’s _ brand of protocol was nowhere near new. 

Still, every deviation from Bruce’s views left him jumpy. Was he succumbing to the oh so terrible sin of being affected by his experiences? His critical thinking and judgment cast into doubt because he had been through an ordeal? Such human weakness was something Bruce did not tend to allow for- or have anything but disgust for- in himself. In the face of that obvious sentiment, there was never permission for it in any of the Robins. Even if Bruce said differently verbally at times. Even now, thought that his own beliefs and conclusions might not be trustworthy- that he may be broken a useless somehow in more than just the physical sense- filled Tim with self-loathing. 

Even though he was fairly certain those thoughts were untrue, it didn’t stop them from having an effect. 

In an effort to reckon with his feelings about Jason and his choices, Tim had started to pick out Red Hood’s targets. It felt a little bit like reclaiming some moral control. That he was somehow engineering encounters. Something that he knew to be an especially dangerous illusion to fall into. Particularly because Jason was in many ways proud to be a loose cannon.

He took the leads, Tim suspected, in part to turn Tim’s expectations on their head. And boy did he. But it was good. It was  _ good. _ So good Tim could feel it in his bones. A shiver of… something. Everytime Jason did something particularly unexpected Tim felt almost giddy. And fearful. And- it was like they were playing so weird game sometimes. A  _ fun _ one at that. And when was the last time that was allowed?

Tim had been alone in many ways long before he was locked in that cell. 

He feared the feelings Jason managed to tease out of him as much as he was intrigued. Everyday that passed made the idea of being Red Robin again more unthinkable. And the alternative… Well, the things that had been a hard ‘NO’ within him still were, but… a grey area was starting to emerge. Clearer everyday. Tim almost wished realization could be put off a little longer. He knew once he owned up to the change it would redefine much of his identity. 

Sometimes Tim could feel it; the eyes of a new mask watching him. Waiting for him. Unnamable because of the way it would make it real. He wouldn’t be able to put it off for much longer though. Even now, denial felt like lie he was waiting to be freed from.

Stealing himself, Tim stood again on shaky legs and raised the desk so he could lean on it. His eyes flickered to the time for a moment. He knew the longest he’d managed to stand in the past and his goal  _ had  _ been to try and break that record today… Resolutely he planted himself in front of the computer and continued to work, carefully dissociating enough that the fatigue and pain of his limbs were easily tuned out. It was a meditative technique he’d picked up from Bruce (Dick called it willfully self-destructive. He might not be wrong) but Tim was grateful for it now.

He was so immersed in his work, he didn’t immediately perceive when Jason returned.

“Junkie.” Jason said right behind him.

Only years of living with Alfred kept Tim from jumping. 

“You’ve called me that before. Care to share why? Or is this just going to be my new nickname without any sort of explanation?” Tim asked without turning around.

“Because you’re a junkie, Junkie.” Jason snorted and Time heard the thump of his helmet being set down.

“How illuminative.” Tim said dryly. 

“Turn around and tell me that.” Jason said.

“Honestly Jason.” Tim said slightly exasperated, “I’m not trying to pick a fight.”

“Just fucking do it.” Jason said.

Tim started to- if only to give Jason a look- but the moment he tried to turn around he nearly tipped over as his legs refused to unlock and the screaming ache of his body made itself known all at once. He would have had difficulty keeping upright if Jason hadn’t steadied him with a hand on his back and a bored look… before easily shifting him and tipping him to fall backward onto the couch. Tim tried to twist, but his body wasn’t having even that. 

He hit the cushions on his back with a thump.

“That’s why you’re a junkie.” Jason said pointedly. 

“Ah- noted.” Tim winced and tried to bend his knees to sit up. Couldn’t. 

“Ask.” Jason said- no, ordered.

“...help?” Tim sighed and looked away. Jason reached out and gripped his face in a painful grip and turned it so he could study it before nodding almost to himself. Tim worked off his sweatpants enough that Jason could yank them off his feet. 

It was always a strange feeling. To have Jason kneeling at his feet. To have strong steady hands start to work the muscles on his legs. They could technically do this through the sweats but… it was better this way. Not just because it was easier. But because Tim suspected that Jason needed touch unconnected with violence almost as much as Tim did. Jason might not have been locked in a cell, but he was still touch starved from his own self imposed isolation. 

Neither of them brought it up. The same way neither of them ever suggested Tim start sleeping on the couch. 

“You’re such a pain in the ass sometimes.” Jason glared at him, “You’re going to fuck up your own recovery just so you can prove some shit about strength or whatever the hell it is you’re trying to do.”

“I’m not going to fuck up my recovery.” Tim said hissing a bit as his calves cramped up painfully before Jason hands were forcing his body to give up the tension and relax. Tim groaned a bit a slumped into the cushions and let his eyes flutter close. He couldn’t have resisted if he wanted to. 

He could feel Jason watching intently.

“You’re on ice packs tonight.” Jason told him gruffly at last, “Tomorrow I don’t want you getting up for anything short of needing to take a piss, you hear me? The only exercises I want you doing are the small weights from your chair.”

“Got it.” Tim agreed easily.

He could feel Jason’s suspicion without even looking at him.

“Seriously Jason, I won’t try to walk tomorrow.” Tim said opening his eyes and sighing, “I beat my record, that’s all I wanted to do today.”

“You’re so fucking-”

“In fact,” Tim interrupted, “If you could pass me the computer I need to send something.”

“What?” asked Jason suspiciously even as he stretched to grab the computer.

“Mmm, every time I hit a new milestone I send Bruce a test.” Tim hummed setting the computer on his stomach and beginning to type.

Jason’s hands, which had returned to his legs stilled tellingly. 

Well, it wasn’t like Tim was planning to keep it a secret. Besides, he’d need Jason his side a little more officially eventually.

“The first couple tests are to reaffirm that Bruce is willfully ignoring the evidence pointing to the fact that I am alive.” Tim said very aware that he had 100% of Jason’s attention.

“Dangerous. He could figure out the truth that way.” Jason said, his eyes sharp.

“Indeed,” agreed Tim, “I always want to allow Bruce the opportunity of success and improvement. Batman is, after all, a very important force and improvement is a positive thing for Gotham overall. I have many tests lines up, depending on his success and failure in those tests- and the methodology employed- I have prepared different courses of action.”

“Tests…” Jason’s gaze was narrow and suspicious, he he had the right to be, “What exactly does that entail?”

“At the moment? I have been bringing his attention to cases wherein there was a victim who died supposedly in scenarios similar to mine. Especially meant to highlight the inconsistencies in evidence and deduction. The tests after that are meant to asses his responses to situations where he has historically failed to determine to what measure he has learned from his mistakes.” Tim said holding eye contact, “I will not create crimes or situations, but I have no qualms in orchestrating the types of situations that come to Bruce’s attention and when.”

Jason snorted softly under his breath. He wouldn’t have missed that that was an unsubtle dig at his own attempts to get Bruce to own up to his failures. It wasn’t meant to be. If Tim was going to win Jason over in any truly meaningful way he was going to have to be upfront and honest with him from the start. Jason did not respond well to deceptive manipulation. 

It would be far to familiar to both of them from Bruce.

“So what’s your end goal?” Jason asked going back to rubbing Tim’s legs. They were mostly good now, but it still felt amazing so Tim wouldn’t stop him.

“That’ll depend greatly on Bruce’s ability to demonstrate that he can learn from his mistakes.” Tim said shrugging.

“Don’t avoid the question you manipulative little shit,” Jason said. He said it amused,  _ almost  _ fond. But it came with a warning press at a joint that made Tim wince.

“Well…”

“What happens when Bruce proves you right?” Jason rephrased his question, “When he proves he’s a stubborn fuck that won’t bend on the important stuff?”

“Then… I will be recovered and hopefully retrained with your help,” Tim said watching Jason’s expression carefully, he didn’t look surprised so Tim plowed on, “And I will begin making my real moves.”

“Yeah? What’s that going to be?” Jason asked.

“Making Bruce and other members face up to the evidence that I have complied.” Tim said.

“Hah, that’s not going to work.” Jason snorted looking a little disappointed. 

“Oh I didn’t say I was going to be doing it by  _ talking _ to them.” Tim smiled bitterly, “We both know none of them respond best to that.”

“Yeah?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

“The end goal, as you called it, is for Dick to remove Damian from Bruce’s household and begin training him himself.” Tim said simply. He took some pleasure in the surprise on Jason’s face.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” Jason blinked.

“Everything. If Bruce cannot prove he is capable or willing to make significant change then Damian can not remain as his primary influence. I will admit that I immensely dislike the kid, but I also have no desire to have to take him down as a super villain one day. Especially when the situation is completely avoidable. Dick has proven to be the most effectively positive influence in Damian’s life and- against the odds- Damian has also been a steadying force in Dick’s life as well.” Tim explained, “Now of course I will not be telling this to any of them. They have to realize it for them self. Dick especially, who has been the most thoroughly conditioned under Bruce’s doctrine, needs willingly choose to go against Bruce himself.”

Jason whistled slightly and sat back. Tim could tell he was assessing him in a whole new light.

“Of course, I don’t intend to leave Bruce to his own devices. That never ends well,” Tim continued, “Batman  _ needs _ a Robin. I have always believed that and I still do. However, Robin need not be totally swallowed up by Bruce. In Damian’s absence, I will arrange for Duke to take a much bigger role. He needs the extra training, but he is old enough that Bruce won’t be able to take over his whole world. Bruce’s explicit failure in regards to both yours and my own “deaths” should shake up his faith sufficiently as well. He will always question. It should serve as a healthy check on Batman.”

“You’ve thought of everything then?” Jason mocked a little.

“Hardly.” Tim said honestly with a little smile, “Many of my plans still need plenty of fine tuning and research still. If you were willing, I was hoping you could speak into some of them.”

Jason tapped at Tim’s leg as he stared at him shrewdly. Tim wondered if the other was even aware of what he was doing it.

“You want me in on this maddness?” Jason said slowly.

Tim nodded, hoping the honesty in his face would be enough.

“What’s to keep you from manipulating my ass the way you plan to everybody else's?” snorted Jason, his eyes bitter, “How stupid do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all Jason.” Tim said simply, “I think you’ve proven yourself to be a very skilled strategist and I want you as my partner.”

“Partner.” Jason repeated incredulously.

“Not like Batman and Robin are partners. I want to work with you as an equal.” Tim said honestly.

“Really.”

“I don’t expect you to believe me just yet.” Tim admitted, “And I won’t promise that I would ever manipulate you. But I will always be honest about it. I can give you that much.”

“How generous.” Jason said flatly.

Tim sighed.

“Say I agreed to this madness.” Jason said after a moment, “What exactly would I be calling you, ‘partner’?”

“I-” Tim closed his eyes.

Felt the hollow eyes of the mask watching him. Waiting for him.

“The Albatros.” he said quietly. Felt the way the truth shifted beneath his skin. Sunk it’s claws in.

“Those fucking giant white birds?” Jason raised an eyebrow, “You sure you’re not compensating for something?”

“No, I-” Tim snorted, “I admit I was thinking more  Samuel Taylor.”

“Ah,” Jason actually looked thoughtful and Tim was reminded of all the literature book and poetry that he had found in Jason’s room at the Manor, “All hope if visited by one or sin and punishment if you kill or get rid of one?”

“Er- something like that.” admitted Tim flushing a bit. 

“Huh,” muttered Jason getting up and striding to the kitchen.

“What are you-?” Tim asked cautiously.

“I’ll think about it.” Jason cut him off, “You’re still fucking crazy in my books, got it?”

“Ah, noted.” Tim winced.

“Now it’s time for you to eat again so fucking prepare yourself.” Jason said warningly.

“Oh god.” Tim cringed slightly.

Jason smirked and began to work. As he did so, Tim realized he was reciting the Rime of the Ancient Mariner from memory. Tim closed his eyes and listened.

“ _ Ah! well a-day! what evil looks  _

_ Had I from old and young!  _

_ Instead of the cross, the Albatross  _

_ About my neck was hung.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought the symbolism that the Albatros has in literature was super fascinating. It took me a while to figure out what Tim's new identity would be but once I thought of it there was no going back. I'm still not sure on his new costume design yet. Tim's so pale you don't wan't to put him in too much white. Ah well I'll figure it out sometime.
> 
> ***
> 
> Just a heads up, we're about to enter the busiest quarter of the year for me at work and I'm likely to be working a lot of overtime shifts. Having said that, I will still likely write some, but I don't know how much or which stories.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No joke, I have one of those mastermind spiderwebs(or rather a collection of white boards and stickie-notes) for this story. The trick is to get me to actually sit down rather than continue to tweak details.

“29… 30.”

Tim took a moment to center his balance on the slackline on one foot before stepping off of it onto the floor again. He rolled his foot experimentally. There was the expected amount of fatigue- he had been doing these exercises for an hour- but there was no pain. Tim allowed himself a small triumphant smile.

“Stretch it out.” Jason ordered tonelessly from the other side of the room. Tim schooled his expression back into something neutral and flowed into his stretches. He reminded himself that just because Jason looked like he was focused on sharpening his various knifes, didn’t mean that he wasn’t paying close attention to Tim’s exercises as well.

The stretches felt good after his brief workout. His stamina was still small and his skills rusty, but he was still reveling in his ability to have this again. Jason was even sparring with him a little these days. Short, brutal, matches that usually ended in Tim pinned and frustrated while Jason enjoyed watching him struggle. Sparring with Jason more than a little humbling though. Not only had he been trained under Batman, he’d also been trained by Death Stroke and several other masters around the world as he built up his power before coming back to Gotham for his show down.

Jason was less than impressed with Tim’s skill level, recovery or no recovery.

“God, it’s a wonder no one took you out for real.” Jason had said with disgust, as he threw Tim after he forgot to take into account the correct angle of his strike.

“It’s not like I was this weak before.” Tim had protested.

“No,” Jason had agreed, “Worse, you were over confident. You barely spent any time with Bruce before you were running all over with your different teams.”

He had a point, though Tim still didn’t think he was being fair. He didn’t think Jason would respond well to talk about fairness though so he didn’t press it.

They were there because the world wasn’t fair.

“I’ll get you some teachers.” Jason had told him, “You better work your ass off with them too. Plan or no plan you’ll never be of use to anyone if you’re so easy to kill.”

“You won’t teach me?” Tim had asked.

“Hell no,” Jason had scoffed, “You’d just piss me off and then I’d have to beat the shit out of you.”

Tim had laughed, perhaps because he knew it was true. He looked forward to the day when he and Jason could have a real spar on equal footing.

“So what nefarious plans do you have for tonight?” Jason drawled once Tim finished stretching.

“Keeping Oracle busy. Seeing if I can coax Dick back into Gotham proper.” Tim shrugged.

“Just give him a trail of cereal or something.” Jason grumbled, “Fucker still acts like he’s five about some shit.”

“I was thinking more of case that crossed city boarders.” Tim hummed as he stripped out of his sweaty clothes and into fresh ones.

“What kind of case?” Jason asked, his eyes narrowing as he watched him.

“I have a couple in mind,” Tim said settling at the computer, “But I suppose it’ll depend on which one I think I can get Robin involved in too.”

“No more cases with kids.” Jason said shortly. Tim paused: there was no room for argument there, “You find any of those sorts of fucked up cases you give them straight to me, you hear me?”

“Jason…” Tim started to comment and then thought better of it, “Yes, I will do that.”

Even if that meant there would be a lot more bodies of child predators turning up. Tim had always sort of looked away when monsters like that met their due end. It made him uncomfortable to give them to Jason out right, but he was learning everyday that he was more morally grey than he’d thought.  

He hadn’t expected Jason to struggle so much with the tests he’s set up for Bruce: There was the young Firefly victim who had died at temperatures similar to Tim’s that required Bruce to find clues from the remainder of the corpse. Or there had also been the child of a rival gang that had their death faked so their enemies could use the kid later against their parents. There had been several other similar scenarios. Jason had been so agitated that they had to wait and see if  _ Bruce _ could solve the mystery when the perpetrators were right there. Tim had had to promise that if Bruce didn’t figure it out in time that Jason was allowed to step in. The time in-between had Jason brutalizing criminals on the street and scratching at brand on his face in agitation when he was home.

With other types of criminals, Jason seemed to have much more patience for the mind games Tim wanted to set up.

“I still think you decided to focus on Dick-head since your stalker ass has never been able to leave him alone.” Commented Jason.

“Well Dick is the prettiest.” Tim said in his poshist voice before shaking his head with a small smile, “Dick may have started my obsession, but I spent the most time following and taking pictures of  _ you _ . I was still to young and clumsy to be able to keep up very often back then. Dick was my obsession, but you were my Robin. The one I always wanted to live up to.”

Jason didn’t respond to that. Tim didn’t expect him to.

“Dick is working very hard on getting himself killed though these days,” Tim swore under his breath as he read the latest reports. Fulltime officer, fulltime vigilante, fulltime lover, and fulltime son was not working out for Dick. He was running on empty. Tim considered having Dick discreetly injured before dismissing the idea. There was too much risk some thug might take advantage of the situation if Dick was helpless for even a moment.

“You probably don’t need to do anything, the Bat is going to bench his ass soon enough anyway.” Jason sneered.

“He’s already tried.” Tim said pulling up the transcripts from the last Batman/Nightwing fight to show Jason, “Dick’s not having it. He’s determined to work himself to death.”

“Golden Boy not coming when Daddy calls… ha, see something new everyday.” Snorted Jason derisively.

“It does make getting him in Gotham significantly more difficult.” Tim grumbled pulling up a few new possible cases to hook Dick into.

“Really though, birdy.” Jason knocked lightly on Tim’s head, “Why are you focusing so much on Goldie? Robin is clearly the weak link here. Even that Duke kid needs a hell of a lot more work before he’s going to be anywhere other than another pretender.”

“I thought the goal of this was no more dead Robin’s?” Tim said raising an eyebrow.

“Your goal maybe.”

“Oh? So you’d be fine if I put the 10 year old in danger?” Tim pretended to think about it, “He did always piss me off.”

“You make too many fucked up jokes like that and I’ll take your head off your shoulders, birdy.” Jason said smoothly wrapping a hand around Tim’s throat and stroking lightly.

“I won’t hurt him.” Said Tim leaning into the touch despite its threat. Or perhaps because of it. He let Jason see his eyes, let him see the truth there, “I want to protect kids just as much you do. We’re doing this so Bruce doesn’t end up killing the boy  _ again _ or create a super villain we have to take down later.”

“So you say.” Jason said.

“It’s the truth. You know it is.” Tim said simply.

“It is today,” Jason agreed stroking his throat ever so slightly, “But will it always be? What happens if killing a kid works for the greater good? Hmm, what sorts of things with that liar mouth of yours decide to tell me then?”

“If I ever become that much of a monster then you have my permission to kill me.” Tim said simply.

“I imagine if you’d make sure I couldn’t.” Jason countered.

“I think trying to control you would go very badly for me.” Tim admitted truthfully.

“You’ll try though.” Jason accused.

“I’ll do my best not to.” Tim shrugged, "I imagine you’ll enjoy smashing up my efforts very much when I mess up though.”

“Ha,” Jason said letting go of his throat.

“Jason,” Tim grabbed his hand before he got very far.

Jason regarded him with a blank expression, the light from the computer casting his scarred face in shadow.

“Part of why I want you to be my partner,” Tim said slowly, “Is that I know you will have no problem taking me down if I fall too far.”

“And if I fall?” inquired Jason.

“You won’t see me coming.” Promised Tim gravely.

Jason squeezed Tim’s wrist and for a moment his eyes were hard to look away from though Tim couldn’t say what feeling they were burning into him.

“You know,” Jason said lightly letting go of Tim’s wrist, “Some days I think I may be mad enough for Arkham myself when I think about partnering up with you and all your fucked up plans. And then you say shit like this and I gotta stick around to see what you do.”

“Thanks,” said Tim dryly, “I promise you that you bring up similar questions about my sanity.”

“And other times you say the sweetest things, don’t you?” Jason shook his head.

“I do try.”

“Hn… try less.” Jason said grabbing his jacket and guns, “I’d say ‘be good while I’m gone’ but I know that’s impossible for you so try not to be too evil, m’kay?”

“Likewise.” Tim said turning back to his computer and frowning at his notes.

“Oh, no promises.”

****

There was 5 alarms going off.

Tim felt his heart beating a little faster as he saw what tracker was headed towards Jason’s hide out. It wasn’t that unexpected- Jason hadn’t been all that subtle, and he was making pretty bold moves lately that had to be making the Bat’s uneasy- but that didn’t make Tim feel less… undone. Still, although Tim would have preferred not to let the Bat’s know there was another player on the board just yet, he wasn’t unprepared.

Carefully, Tim pulled out the case that had been waiting since the moment he began his training again. He opened the case and took a moment to stare into the black eyes of his new mask. This was it. There would be no going back now.

An alert pinged on his console as the target got closer. Tim hardened his heart and began to quickly change into his new costume.

“A to J,” Tim said into his radio, “Gold is 5 out and closing in quickly. Which protocol should we go with?”

“Nosy little fucker…” Jason sneered into the com, “No way we can let them into the building. Unless you’re good with them finding one of your hairs and running a DNA scan?”

“Protocol Phoenix then.” Tim grimaced.

“Agreed. Be on the roof in 3.”

“Understood. A out.” Tim quickly typed a few commands into the computers that would set the acid he’s set in the hardrives to release and completely burn away any data that might be left as ghost files even with a system wipe. Everything important was on a USB safely tucked into his costume anyway.

Tim decided to conserve his energy and not run up the stairs, instead taking a spare grapple and shooting it at the top of the stairwell and pulling himself up. He punched the protocol code into the pad by the door and then stepped onto the night air of the roof. He settled into the shadow with the best sightlines to the other buildings. Jason would be doing a last scan to make sure no squatters were in range of the building before joining him. Tim just had to wait. The only question would whether Jason would get there first or-

Nightwing swung gracefully from the next building to land lightly on the rooftop. He looked tired and stressed, but also wary even as he crept quietly across the roof. Tim used to have a similar reaction whenever he heard that they would have to be dealing the Red Hood.

Dick wasn’t wrong to be cautious either.

It still took him way to long to realize that there was someone else with him on the roof. Batman would have been disappointed.

“I know you’re there, come out!” Dick ordered with a growl that Tim knew he had learned from Bruce.

Tim stayed still and quite. The less he gave away with body language, the better. Plus, deliberate silence had a tendency to unnerve people. Especially people like Dick.

“I said come out!” Dick threw a flair in his direction. It wasn’t meant to hit him, so Tim stayed still and let it land a few feet away and spark to life, sending flickering light over Tim’s costumed form.

Tim watched Dick’s frown grow tight and his defenses go even higher as he failed to identify this new player. This was to Tim’s advantage since Dick’s caution would make him hesitant to attack outright until he gleaned more information. Even at Tim’s peak he had never beat Dick in a fight and he certainly wouldn’t be able to last very long with his current stamina.

“Who are you?” Dick demanded, “What are you doing on Red Hood’s roof?”

Tim tilted his head wondering if Dick was feeling protective or if he was suspicious about what Jason was up to. Personal experience indicated that it was likely a confusing combination of the two.

“Answer me!” Dick said advancing a step. Tim stayed quite and stayed still. He knew that Dick’s eyes were narrowing behind his lenses as he interpreted that reaction. To not show any sort of intimidation of Nightwing meant that either Tim was ridiculously strong, that he was used to dealing with people far stronger than Nightwing, or that he had been trained to be extraordinarily disciplined.

Dick changed his grip on his escrima stick and Tim had a split second to go through the defensive moves he could use that wouldn’t give his identity away- and then Dick was crying out as a silenced bullet tore through his leg.

“No!” Tim couldn’t stop himself from lurching forward. Jason was landing on the rooftop and yanking him back before he made it more than a few steps.

“Idiot! You’re not his precious baby brother anymore, he’ll attack you if you get close,” Jason hissed over their private coms.

“This wasn’t part of the plan!” Tim hissed back angrily, “Leg wounds like that are dangerous! He’ll bleed out if it’s not seen to quickly.”

“Which Goldie knows how to do,” Jason reminded him with a hint of a sneer, “Hurry up, let’s go. Or do you want to get caught be Daddy Bats this early in the game?”

“Hood!” Dick growled out amid a myriad of curses.

“You better take care of that leg quick Golden Boy; This rooftop ain’t going to be around too much longer,” Jason called to the vigilante on the ground.

“Jason, I just want to talk!” Dick gritted out through the pain.

“Sure you do, that’s why tried to sneak into the place where I live rather than contact me on the street. You should have known I would react like this,” Jason told him. Or maybe he was reminding Tim too. Because, yes, he  _ really _ should have known that a confrontation with the family would go like this.

Tim took a deep breath and made himself turn away from Dick. He was doing what was necessary, he was doing what was necessary, the plan would be worth it in the end. With that in mind he stepped off the ledge and let his cape stiffen out like wings so he could glide down the block to where Jason had prepared a bike. He heard Jason rappel down behind him a moment later.

“You punking out on me?” Jason asked mockingly.

“We’re not done talking about this,” Tim said tightly.

“Yeah, sure sure.” Jason said as they watched Dick stubble to the edge of the rooftop with a tightly bound leg and still somehow gracefully swing onto the next building despite his obvious pain. Jason climbed onto the bike and revved the engine impatiently as Tim tore his gaze away and quickly climbed behind him. Their next safe house was a ways away and it would take even longer to get there since they had to make sure Oracle wouldn’t track them there.

Tim felt the ground rumble as their building exploded far behind them. It was a targeted thing that would primarily destroy everything in the area Jason had been sharing with Tim but once the supports on the building gave out the debris from the upper levels would smother any flames created so that no fires would spread to other buildings in the neighborhood.

“ _ Nightwing! Report!” _ Tim listened to Bruce order sharply over the coms he had hacked.

_ “I’m clear of the building and so are the civilians. I’m shoot though. I’m going to need an extraction.” _ Tim could hear the frustration in Dick’s voice.

_ “I’m on my way,” _ Bruce said tightly. Tim let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

_ “No, send Robin. You go after Hood.”  _ Dick tried to insist,  _ “He’s got someone with him. A new player.” _

_ “Robin is benched.”  _ Batman said simply,  _ “I’ll be there in a-“ _

_ “What?! Batman, seriously, you know he didn’t mean to hurt that mugger that badly. He couldn’t have known the guy had a desiese that left his bones brittle-“ _

_ “He would have if he had taken the care to fully read all the reports-“ _

_ “That’s not fair, there’s hundreds of reports everyday and it’s not like he would have been able to recognize him quickly enough. The guy had a gun.” _

_ “We are not discussing this right now.” _

_ “You never think it’s time to discuss this. You’re too hard on the kid.” _

_ “He lacks discipline.” _

_ “No argument there. But he’s 10 and he’s learning. When he makes a mistake you need to help teach him the right way not just refuse to talk to him and deny him part of your life till he’s perfect again.” _

_ “Robin needs to-“ _

_ “ _ I  _ made Robin. You don’t get to decide what Robin is or isn’t.” _

_ “And I’m Batman, I get to decide if he’s worthy to be on the streets.” _

_ “You’re such a fucking asshole sometimes.” _

“See, that right there is what I like to hear.” Jason said. Of course he would be listening in as well.

“Just because this has worked in our favor right now doesn’t mean I’m not mad.” Tim said shortly.

“Oh please. He’d seen you. He needed to be injured badly enough that he couldn’t follow and that Batman would need to attend to him rather than us.” Jason said.

“You should have told me,” Tim insisted, “There could have been other types on injuries you could have gone for that weren’t so life threatening or potentially crippling. Did you think about that? If Nightwing was crippled how exactly were we going to coax Robin away?”

“You need to trust me more  _ partner,” _ Jason said pointedly and a little cold, “I’m a damn good shot and I wasn’t going to miss. Do you think I could do the kind of shit I do if I wasn’t?”

Tim took a deep steadying breath and tightened his grip around Jason’s waist as they drove.

“I do trust you. Most of the time. But then you do things like this and it makes it hard.” Tim admitted. He probably shouldn’t trust Jason as much as he did. This was still the man who had nearly beat him to death. Still the man who went almost super villain on Gotham, despite the fact that he changed his mind at the last second. He was dangerous and smart. The more that Tim got to know him the more that became apparent. And Tim liked that a possibly a tad more than he should.

Jason stayed quiet the rest of the drive till they reached their temporary hide out. There was a better one they’d be heading to soon deep in Gotham where the Jason still had a fair bit of influence over the criminal underworld. They’d be able to influence things better from such a central position and both of them knew the terrain well enough to disappear more easily is the Bat stirred up trouble. When Jason pulled into the hidden garage they had and climbed off, Tim expected him to go right for the stairs and ignore him the rest of the night. It’s what he usually did when he was frustrated with Tim. A very Brucish trait, though Tim knew better than to say so. He liked his head on his shoulders thank you very much. Instead, Jason caught Tim’s wrist and held him where he was.

“What?” Tim asked testily. He was still mad at him after all. Jason tilted his head and Tim wished he’d taken off his helmet so he could see his expression.

“I was also testing you.” Jason admitted at last.

“What?” that was not what Tim was expecting him to say.

“How serious you were about your plan,” Jason elaborated.

“How does that relate to the plan? I already said it was counter-productive to the plan.” Tim frowned under his mask.

“It wasn’t counter-productive.” Jason sighed, “With Dick out of commission Bruce’s resources are stretched thin. He’ll have to pick and choose which crimes he’ll go after and it will frustrate him. He’ll tell himself he’s been getting complacent, relying on Dickie, and you, and even Batgirl too much. He’ll draw more into himself and be even more critical of Robin and the slipups he makes, benching for more and more minor things so he can go off on his own and prove that he’s just fine by himself. And Dickie will be around since he’s injured to see it. And since Batman will to be too busy to deal with us since we aren’t making that much trouble and there’s always bigger fish to fry, we can get more established in Gotham.”

Tim stared at him.

“Say it.” Jason said.

“…That’s perfect. You’re- wow. This is really good. I still wish you’d told me, but that’s brilliant Jason.” Tim breathed.

“Trust.” Jason reminded Tim tapping on his mask.

“Communication.” He countered. Jason shook his head.

“Not for this one. Like I said this was a test for  _ you _ : So far, all your moves have been remote. You’ve put things in motion for your plan but you haven’t taken any responsibility. If things went haywire everything could be blamed on me and no one would ever know you were involved. You could slip back into the fold with no resistance. Now though, you choose to help down a Bat. Dickie will forgive you, but Bruce won’t. Not truly. And you know it. I had to see if you would stay and fret over Golden Boy and let yourself be caught and taken back. Or…” Jason said tugging him off the bike so that Tim had to peer up at his blank mask.

“Or choose a side.” Tim finished, “Jason, I’m serious about this plan. I always was, you know that. I don’t appreciate you forcing me to show some of my hand this early though. This life throws enough curveballs that I like to save my surprises for the occasions that truly require them.”

“We’ll go with that next time.” Jason said.

“Really?” Tim said skeptically.

“Maybe,” Jason amended with a little bit of a mean laugh, “What can I say? I’m not a good person. You sounded so concerned when Big Bird went down I could have puked. He’s going to be thinking about you now you know. Wondering about the way you reacted.”

Tim had thought of that. The other things Jason had said that night brought up a new thought

“That might be worth cultivating,” Tim rocked on his heels a little, “If we can get Dick to figure it out before Bruce and keep it a secret…”

“Then it will drive a big wedge between them.” Finished Jason

“If I let Dick think that I didn’t come back because Bruce would cast me out then he’ll be determined to save me. And mad at Bruce if I can convince him I’m right. It might even be a good position to be since I could feed him more doubts about Bruce and Damian and if it’s even safe for the brat there.” Tim said thoughtfully, “Dick’s trusting that way.”

“Oh that’s pretty evil bird boy,” Jason said with a little bit of relish.

“Hmm, maybe.”

“No maybe,” Jason said, “It’s down right twisted is what it is.”

His free hand darted out and lightly brushed back the hair that was falling around the edges of Tim’s bask. Tim felt something go still inside him. Or perhaps pay extra attention. Something had shifted again between them.

“Did you purposefully lure Dick to our base?” Tim asked at last, “So you could pull off this test?”

“We needed to move soon anyway. They’d have figured out where we were soon. I haven’t been going out as far with you being all delicate at home. They probably already had my location narrowed down quite a bit.” Jason shrugged by way of answer.

“You’re an asshole.” Tim sighed.

“True,” Jason shrugged uncaring, before tugging Tim a little closer by his wrist teasingly, “How did your debut feel? Was the Night as exciting as you remembered?”

Tim didn’t have to think about that one. Despite his conflict about Dick, the mask on his face felt perfect, his blood still singing lightly with the adrenaline of the escape.

“Better.” Tim answered, “It feels even better.”

“Thought so.” Said Jason sounding satisfied as he let Tim go and started for the stairs. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim's still uncomfortable with harming too much and that's good. It bodes well for his continued status as a not-quite-villain. 
> 
> I spent way to much time doing unnecessary research and sketches for this thing. Here's the design for Tim's mask ([x](https://wellthatjusthappend.tumblr.com/post/169428981076/designing-tims-new-identity-in-my-story-forget-me)) and here's a GIF of Tim when Dick finds him on the rooftop/his new costume([x](https://wellthatjusthappend.tumblr.com/post/170198236541/the-next-chapter-of-forget-me-notx-is-almost)). And here is random research about Albatrosses if you so desire to read about them([x](https://wellthatjusthappend.tumblr.com/post/169430813901/albatross-research)). They're crazy birds.


End file.
